


Piano Man

by InfernoPunk



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Billy Joel - Freeform, Drunk confessions, Kinda Fluffy, M/M, a little ooc, dante gets really drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 12:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4221390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfernoPunk/pseuds/InfernoPunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dante is a sloppy drunk and Nero is exasperated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Piano Man

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while I was at work and Piano Man came on the radio. This just kinda happened as a result. I fucking love these nerds. (I realize this is a bit OOC as I'm not certain that Dante's demonic inner workings would really allow him to get drunk but... yeah)

Dante didn't normally like spending more time with the costumers of Devil May Cry than necessary but months of living with Nero had made him soft. The old man was sporting this imploring look in his weathered eyes and Nero too, was looking up at the older hunter to see what his answer would be.

He sighed and ran a gloved hand through his hair, damp with sweat. Dinner wouldn't be the worst thing, especially if he didn't have to pay for it. "I suppose if you insist, the kid here and I could meet you somewhere." A night spent in the company of this geezer wasn't high on his list of things to look forward too, but well... free food.

The old man, who'd asked the duo to call him Bill, smiled warmly. "Excellent, how about Wellingford's? Seven O'clock?"

Nero's eyes widened and he and Dante shared a look of surprise. Wellingford's was one of the nicer restaurants in the city, a suit-and-tie sort of establishment. Jeez, these old people with their money and no one to spend it on.

"Sounds great, we'll see you there." He said after Bill who was already walking inside to place the reservation.

"Do you even own a suit?" The younger hybrid asked on their way back to the car.

"Uh, probably."

At 6:30, Nero was waiting at the door. He felt stiff in his starchy, navy blue ensemble. The collar felt like it was trying to choke him and the fabric felt heavy on his frame. It had been a gift from Kyrie who knew much more about picking out flattering clothes than he did.

He heard the sound of shoes on the staircase and looked up to see Dante, fixing a cuff on his black pinstripe getup. He kind of looked like a mob boss at a certain angle with his wide shoulders and chiseled face. It was certainly a very different look from his normal 'hell cowboy' style.

"Where the fuck did you learn how to tie a tie?" Dante smirked as he approached his companion. Said halfbreed looked down at the botched job and scowled.

"It's not like I wear one all the time," he hissed defensively.

"Well I'm not going to be seen in public with you looking like you just crawled out of a dumpster." He was already undoing the knot and realigning it about Nero's neck.

"It wasn't that bad!" Nero huffed.

Dante merely snorted and worked with deft fingers to fix the tie and smooth it back into place. At this close proximity, his cologne smelled strongly of patchouli.

"There," he beamed at his work. "Ready?"

"After you, old man."

The duo hopped into Dante's car and headed to the restaurant, Nero still feeling a bit miffed by the whole tie debacle.

Wellingford's was nearly packed, with couples at every table in sight. There was a dim light bathing the place in a soft atmosphere as smooth jazz wafted from speakers in the ceiling. The hushed noise of collective conversation buzzed in the air.

The larger hunter scanned the room until he found Bill sitting a table in the corner by himself, waving them over. He placed a hand on Nero's shoulder to steer him to their seats.

"Well, don't you two look nice," beamed the old man. He wore a weathered, brown suit with a cravat poking out of his collar. His grey hair had been slicked back off his face. The two hunters gave words of gratitude as they sat down, Nero to Dante's right side.

A waitress in a white blouse and black pants approached the table, her eyes resting on Dante just a bit to long for the younger half-breed's liking. It wasn't like it came as any surprise, and it certainly wasn't because he was jealous that he felt his devil bringer warm underneath its thick wrapping.

"Can I get you guys something to drink?" She asked, sheepishly stealing another glance at Dante who winked flirtatiously back. Nero made a gagging sound, and Dante slammed the heel of his foot onto the smaller man's toes.

Bill, who seemed oblivious to the exchange smiled and said, "I'll take some whiskey, if you got it."

"Make that two," chimed in Dante.

"And for you?" She turned to Nero a bit timidly.

"I'm good with water, thanks." She nodded and left.

"Not a fan of 'grown up' drinks, eh?" Bill's smile reached his eyes.

"No I'm just, ah... not in the mood." What he really meant was that he knew Dante had no self control and if they were both going to be drinking, someone was going to have to babysit the manchild and that someone, it seemed, was going to have to be Nero.

The old man nodded in respect. "Well anyways, thank you so much for coming out to take care of those erm... things, earlier."

"It's no problem at all," said Dante, slinging and arm over the back of his companion's chair.

The waitress returned with a tray balanced on her palm and set down the drinks. Two glasses of whiskey and one glass of water with a lemon wedge on the lip. Wow, fancy. She assured them that she'd be back in a few moments to place their orders.

Bill sipped his drink slowly unlike Dante who lifted the glass to his lips and sucked it all down in one swig. Nero nursed his water, feeling like a little kid all of a sudden.

"I see you've um, taken care of that arm of yours, son," He said the words delicately like he was afraid of injuring the younger hybrid.

"Yeah, it tends to make people uncomfortable," he replied dryly.

"Well it certainly is an impressive thing. Never seen anything like it," it was meant as a compliment, Nero was pretty sure, but he still felt as if he were some sort of circus freak being gawked at. He always felt like that when people pointed it out or made comments.

"I'm gonna use the bathroom real quick," he excused himself and made his way to the restroom, holding his wrapped appendage close to his side.

"I'm sorry, I meant no offense," Bill said to Dante.

"Don't take it personally," the elder hunter waved nonchalantly. "He's just self conscious. Came from one of those really religious towns you know? He's still sore about it."

The old man uttered an, "Oh," of understanding and nodded. "I see."

Nero sat on the bathroom counter, holding his arm in his lap. If he stared at it long enough he could see the pale blue light making its way through the gauze. He was waiting for the day when he could carry it around in public and be chill about it like Dante always was, but even after all this time, he could never shake the feeling of judging eyes on him wherever he went. Too much time spent in Fortuna around people who treated him like garbage kinda left some deep mental scarring.

Fortuna was far away though, he reminded himself. And sulking in the bathroom probably wouldn't make him look terribly mature- and God forbid Dante come after him if he was gone too long. He chided himself for being so sensitive and made his way back to the table.

By the time he sat down, Dante was sucking down his fourth drink. The waitress came by moments later and they all put their orders in.

"You were in there a long time," Dante teased. "What? The water didn't agree with you?" He snorted at his own joke and Nero shook his head.

"Why don't you cool it with the liquor? You're gonna make an ass out of yourself."

A hand flew to Dante's heart dramatically as he made a show of looking hurt. Always the theatrics.

Bill chuckled at the banter, his eyes crinkling with mirth. "Oh it's alright, you two worked hard today. I think he's earned it."

"I apologize in advance for his actions," Nero replied looking wearily at the old man.

"That's quite alright, I was his age once myself." As if to make a point, he waved the girl over and asked for another round.

"See?" The larger half-breed jeered. "It's fine."

Nero rolled his eyes as the refill came. Their food followed shortly after and he was thankful to have something to focus on besides Dante taking advantage of the free booze. The seared salmon in front of him looked pricier than his own suit. He felt a little guilty eating it.

Bill was making a comment about how nice it was that establishments like this one were still around despite economic hardships. Dante had since starting sporting a nice alcohol blush on his cheeks and was tearing into his sirloin like an animal.

"So how long have you boys been doing this?"

Nero prayed that Dante would at least have the common decency to swallow his food before answering. He realized, however, that he frequently puts too much faith in his companion. Around a mouthful of risotto, Dante said, "Probably like what... uhh, a whole bunch of years now. Nero here joined up fairly recently, though."

As the night wore on and the empty plates were taken away Dante was acting more and more like an ass. Nero had lost track of how many drinks he'd had now.

"You know Bill, you remind me of someone very close to me." Nero watched Dante the way that someone watches a train crash, with horror and anticipation at finding out how many casualties there would be. "That man's name is Billy Joel."

"You've never met Billy Joel in your life," said Nero.

There was a loud crash and all eyes turned to their table as Dante's fist came down on the mahogany. "Why do you always do this to me?" He wailed. "You take the fun out of everything!"

The younger hunter jumped up from his seat and looked horrified at Bill. "Sir, I am so sorry. I think I'm gonna take him home now before he hurts himself." His hands were already on Dante's forearm lifting him up. "Thank you so much for this wonderful meal."

The old man smiled a sympathetic smile. "Thank you as well. Please do, um, make sure he makes it home alright."

The halfbreed nodded and summoned a bit of force out of his devil arm to drag Dante away from the table. "Nero, please I'mperfectlyincontrol." He protested as they exited the building, dozens of eyes following the pair.

Outside the air was cool and a light breeze stirred the ends of Nero's hair. He was dragging Dante by the arm to the car.

"Wait! Waitwaitwait!" Dante hissed.

"What," Nero replied warily.

"I have to tell you something."

"What is it, old man."

Dante leaned in so that his lips were physically against Nero's ear and said without making any attempt to lower his voice, "You are so pretty."

Nero huffed and shoved Dante off of him. "Fuck off and get in the car."

With some difficulty the elder hunter managed to get himself into the passenger seat as Nero situated himself behind the wheel. He knew how to drive, but he'd never been allowed to drive Dante's car. If he were sober, he'd be throwing a tantrum.

As the car pulled onto the highway, Dante decided he didn't like whatever was playing on the radio and began to offer his own song selection. He slurred the chorus to Billy Joel's Piano Man at the top of his lungs.

"Sing us asongyou'rethe miano pan!"

This went on for a few minutes, with Nero white-knuckling the steering wheel. If he weren't worried about dodging the idiot's flailing limbs and staying in his lane then he would have smashed his face into the dashboard.

Done with his botched karaoke (Nero hoped), Dante settled down. That is, until they came to a stop at a red light. "Ohmygod," Dante wailed. "Would you slow the fuck down!"

"Would you fucking chill out? We're not even moving, asshole." Nero countered rolling his eyes in disbelief. This wasn't the first time he'd been forced to interact with Dante while he was drunk, but it certainly never became any more bearable.

They pulled into Devil May Cry in one piece about twenty minutes later; no thanks to Dante of course. As they stepped inside and flicked the lights on, Dante began complaining about how stuffy it was. Nero, grumbled something and opened a window. He turned to see his companion already tearing his clothes off. His tie was on the ground and so was the black pinstripe blazer. He had his fingers on the buttons of his shirt.

"Just give it a sec, would you? I just opened the window. If you're gonna get changed, go upstairs you creep."

Dante's hands were around his waist moments later. He bristled and attempted to pry him off, but to no avail. "Why are you so mean to me?" The taller hunter asked into Nero's neck.

"Because you're like a fucking five year old. Now, let go of me so I can take you to bed like the infant you are." There was a frustrated huff and then he was let go. Dante was sporting a pout that did nothing to help his case.

One strenuous stair climb later, Nero was helping Date into his room. He was digging around in his drawers for something he could leave out and came up with a pair of red sweatpants. He set them on the edge of the bed and closed the door behind him, leaving Dante to figure out the rest on his own. He hadn't even reached the staircase when the door swung back open and there stood Dante, completely nude and looking lost.

"Christ, Dante!" He averted his eyes and itched his nose reflexively.

"M'tired," the elder hybrid whined.

"Then put some fucking clothes on and go to bed."

"S'too hot,"

"What the fuck do you want me to do?"

"Stay with me?" Nero wasn't looking at Dante but the crack in his voice caught his attention.

"Jesus, you're not actually going to cry are you?"

"Nee-ro..."

He was certain this circus act was going to go on forever.

"Fucking hell, fine. Just... let me get changed okay? Please for the love of God have some pants on by the time I'm back. And I swear if you ask me for anything else I'm going to punch you in the dick."

That answer seemed to satisfy him as he retreated into his room. Nero heaved a sigh and went downstairs to shower.

He felt better once he was in some looser clothing which consisted of a tank top and a baggy pair of pants. His devil bringer hummed warmly once it had been freed of its confines. He still couldn't help the feeling of dread in his stomach as he went back up to Dante's room. He had absolutely no idea what he'd find behind that door.

The pants were no longer on the bed, so Nero assumed that meant he was wearing them. So far so good. Dante himself was under the covers with his eyes fixed on the younger hybrid as he walked in.

"I thought you were never going to come back," he whined.

"Well I'm here."

Dante lifted the covers and gestured for the other to join him.

"No way." Said Nero, settling instead on top of the covers with a pillow supporting his back. He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed with exhaustion. Dante's arms coiled around Nero's hips and he rested his head on his thigh. The younger considered shoving him off but didn't out of fear of another emotional outburst.

"I think I love you, Nero." Came the quiet confession after a few moments of silence.

"You're fucking drunk." Though he did feel a blush rise to his cheeks. There was a good chance Dante either didn't mean it or he wouldn't remember it by tomorrow in the first place, so Nero decided to let it go. He moved his devil bringer to comb through the tangled strands of Dante's hair idly and soon after, the man on his thigh was asleep.

He released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and shimmied himself off the bed. I think I love you, Nero. The words swam through his head as he made himself comfortable on the couch downstairs.

The next morning, Dante didn't emerge until after eleven. Not that he was ever a morning person but he'd usually be up by nine or so. He was pinching the bridge of his nose as he descended the stairs. Nero watched him silently over the lip of his coffee mug. He made a bee-line straight for the medicine cabinet and inhaled a pair of Ibuprofen.

"Morning, sunshine." Nero smirked.

"Hey," came the disgruntled reply. He picked up the coffee pot, realized the contents were cold, made a noise of disgust, and set it back down.

"You know, you never told me you met Billy Joel." Nero was struggling to keep a straight face.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Apparently you two are very close."

"Are you high, kid?" He turned to face Nero, who looked like he was about to implode.

"Course not. But may I offer a kind reminder that you were drunk off your ass last night?" He was flat out giggling now and Dante just looked irked.

"Yeah,"

Nero snorted at the obvious discomfort on his roommate's face.

"Uh thanks, by the way, for not letting me kill myself."

"Sure thing... Piano man."

"What are you- oh."

Nero was holding his stomach, trying not to spill his coffee as he laughed.

Dante huffed. "Anything else happen that you'd like to point out?"

He wasn't laughing anymore. I think I love you, Nero. The words from last night returned to him.

"Yeah, ha, you uh confessed your love for me last night." He forced a chuckle to make it sound casual, though he was searching the other's face for a reaction.

Dante raised his eyebrows and exhaled through his nose. He absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair. "Huh," he said. "What did I say?"

"You said that you think you love me; you even called me by my name." Nero pretended to wipe a sentimental tear from his eye.

Dante remained silent, and that feeling of dread returned to the younger halfbreed's stomach. Did he really want Dante to mean that? Why couldn't he shake the feeling that he was about to get dumped?

His roommate made it over in two strides. He took Nero's chin gently and bent down to kiss him. His lips were warm and soft and much to Nero's own shock, he didn't have the will to push him away.

Dante pulled away after a moment, looking down into those blue eyes that searched for any sign that this was a joke- that he'd laugh in his face and call him a punk. He saw a look that pleaded with him and it kind of broke his heart a little bit.

"What if I meant it?" He asked, never breaking eye contact.

Nero stammered for an answer, a comeback, or something. "I uh...?"

"Guess I'm kinda shit at keeping my secrets once the liquor kicks in, yeah?"

"So," began Nero who swiped at his nose with his devil arm. "Does that mean you did mean that?"

"Yeah."

The younger hunter dared to look up at Dante's face, which actually looked sincere. "Don't fuck with me, Dante," he warned.

"I'm not." He looked down at the flustered half-devil and ruffled his snowy hair.

"Okay," came the reply. "So... what now?"

"Now," Dante said, pulling Nero into a hug. "You help me get this dumb fucking Billy Joel song out of my head."


End file.
